


Curls

by Batmanfan11



Category: Batman (Comics), Superman (Comics)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, curly hair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-16 02:49:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5810674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batmanfan11/pseuds/Batmanfan11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh no.<br/>It's the morning after and Clark woke up first for the first time since they started dating.<br/>What is this new thing that he has found on Bruce that could only be found by waking up first on a humid day?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curls

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MEGAN! I LOVE YOU, HOMESLICE!  
> I HOPE YOU ENJOY THE FLUFF!

Warm.

Happy.

Content.

Lucky.

Ecstatic.

These were all the words that Clark could describe his situation right now. Right now he laid still in Bruce's bed with his arms unusually full. The warm heat from the open balcony doors filled him with such glee and euphoria that Clark contemplated on staying there for the whole day. Just to waste a day in bed with the sun on his naked back and his arms wrapped around the love of his life. The room was in a mess but that had become a normal occurrence at night. Their clothes were scattered around the floor and the sheets had become lopsided. Their middles and upward were the only things covered. Their legs were intertwined below.

Clark liked to hold Bruce.

That said, Clark had started to wonder why he was still holding Bruce.

Habitually, Bruce would wake up first and Clark would wake up empty handed and cold. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling. He actually kinda liked it because that way he wasn't so cramped up and he could starfish all over the bed before going to work. Bruce was never that far away anyway. He was usually picking out his clothes from his closet or taking a shower. So, waking up before Bruce was an extremely rare occurrence. So rare that after being with Bruce for 5 years, this was the first time it ever happened.

Clark's head was on a pillow above Bruce and Bruce's eyes were still closed. He could feel their skin rub against one another. Not even in a sexual way but in a  _I'm-Here_ kind of way. Sweat drops were rolling down their skin. That's what Clark could feel and hear. He didn't want to see them. He didn't want to wake up from this beautiful fantasy. His hands were resting peacefully behind Bruce's back, flat against the skin. He was going to rub it before he decided against it.

He didn't want to wake his love.

After a few more minutes in the hot room, his full senses started to flood back to him. He was used to waking up scared and alert but waking up in Bruce's arms, in his bed; he let himself wake up halfheartedly. His mind raced on obscurities and problems with answers that had no connection. He was wonderfully confused. Once answers and logic came back to him, he opened his eye lids, feeling the eye gunk crack between his lids. He made no move to wipe it away so he just batted his eye lashes until it was out of the way.

With his mind clear and his eyes open, Clark fully enjoyed his environment.

The once bland room had decorations hung around whether it be in photographs or trinkets from their adventures. Snow globes, jewelry, photo frames, and books were everywhere in the room. Clark remember how when they first met, Bruce's room was blank. There were two photos of him and his children and a book on a dresser. Everything else was aesthetically pleasing but not personal. It was a minimalist styled room but anything out of the _Stupid Rich_ catalog wasn't in here. Clark had made it his personal mission to ruin this bleak room and add color, love, and life into his own space.

So when Bruce came home, Bruce came to a room where he was never truly alone.

Clark was currently on his mission and winning.

He sunk deeper into the pillows and looked beyond the door and down the hall. There were the rooms of Bruce's children; Dick, Cassandra, Jason, Tim, and Damian. Though Dick and Jason were adults with their own places and Tim usually stayed at the Tower, Bruce had still argued that they keep their old rooms here so that they have a place to sleep in their own home. Jason would never tell, but he still uses his room even without Bruce knowing. Today was one of those days. Next to him in the other room was Dick, snuggled silently in his childhood bed. He had come home from a pretty nasty fight at Blüdhaven and needed some patching up. Alfred wouldn't let him leave in his state and Bruce backed him up. No matter how much older he gets, Clark feels like Dick is always going to be a simply happy child in everyone's eyes. Cassandra and Tim were not in their rooms but Clark could clearly hear them arguing over which Hemingway book to read next in their private one-on-one book club. Damian was, well, dead asleep in bed. He was wearing nothing but his boxers and a truck load of animals. Mainly just Titus and Alfred the cat but he was 90% covered in those hairy beasts. Damian didn't seem to mind, though, as he slept comfortable against Titus' stomach.

Clark sighed softly.

He loved his family no matter how dysfunctional they were.

He felt the body below him give a long, cold sigh against his naked chest. Goose bumps ran down Clark's back as he actually looked down at his lover. Peacefully asleep, oblivious of the raging summer humidity in the room. Usually Bruce didn't like touching when he was hot but last night was different. It was hard. It was intense. There was a lot Bruce could swallow in a night's work and there were some that needed to be shared with another. Clark didn't mind taking on his burdens for a while just like how Bruce doesn't mind when Clark needed the same relief.

He needed to be touched, no matter how much of that sticky skin feeling he would have to endure.

That's when something moved.

Quiet, calm, and gentle; small strands of Bruce's hair were frizzing up into tight curls. The hair was curling on themselves and that's when something hit Clark.

Clark never realized that Bruce had naturally curled hair, even with all of the obvious signs right in front of him. Bruce always had straight, slicked back hair and when it wasn't slicked back, it was pulled behind his ears. It was always coated in gel on in drastic situations, hair spray. Clark hated hair spray. It took away the glossy look normal gel would of given Bruce's hair. But having curly hair was something that Clark would of never thought of to be on Bruce's head! He really should of guessed it sooner. Always slicking it back and holding it with pins, how could Clark's years of investigating journalism never catch on to this? How could he miss something so alluring.

This was all natural! No gel, no hair spray, no clips or bobby pins.

Natural, 100% beautiful hair.

For a while, Clark watched Bruce's hair curl more and more until the frizz was gone and placed into dense curls around his head. They looked so soft and comforting and almost fitting to Bruce. Bruce was a sentimental kind of person whether or not he knew it. He kept scrap books, held onto old drawings from his kids, and keeps his mother's rose garden alive and flourished. Bruce was a sweet person who didn't deserve that awful life he got. He didn't deserve the inability to speak his feelings but that;s what he got. So he put up a wall and hid behind it for years with. The real him.

Clark sighed and his breath moved the curls.

So wonderfully tempting.

So wonderfully messy. 

So wonderfully Bruce.

Clark knew his fingers would get caught in the messy nest on his head if he ran his finger through it. He also knew Bruce would never let it go if he found out that Clark saw him in his natural state. Bruce was secretive like that.

But Clark took his chances anyway and removed his sweaty palm from Bruce's back and ran it through Bruce's hair. Sure enough, his fingers got caught and Bruce startled awake at the slight pull of his hair. His glassy eyes looked over at Clark and like a roman god, Clark's head was surrounded by brilliant light. His smile was gentle and his eyes spoke of so many truths and of love that Bruce could hear his heart skip a beat. He didn't deserve him but he was a hard head and did what he wanted anyway.

At least he asked for permission before officially moving into his life.

Bruce's hands were sweat-stuck to Clark's chest and he pulled away in disgust.

"Gross, Clark, we're all sweaty. And I probably slept in. Ew." He tried to roll over but an unknown force stopped him. At the corner of his eye, Bruce saw Clark's hair as it extended to the top of his hair which he noticed had gone back to it's curly state. In sudden embarrassment, Bruce plucked his hand away and ran out of bed, naked as the day he was born. He had rushed into the bathroom and slammed the door.

Clark sighed and turned on his back.

Bruce was a character but he loved him.

Maybe he should show those curls some love as well.


End file.
